Pox
by Helen Bache
Summary: E/O Challenge. Sam has the Chicken Pox, and Dean goes on a hunt without him.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey, sorry I'm late (AGAIN) but my computer crashed, and i had to get surgery, and school, and stuff. I know Excuses Excuses, Excuses. But anyway...

Challenge words: *Grins.* Twitch, Scratch, Wall, Passion, Alert, Worn, Sheet, Frame, Whinge, Drag, Light, Shudder, Ankle. 13 words, in a little over a 200 words. *Grins* Oh yeah, Belated condolances for you PlatinumRoseLady! Hope You got over your sickness ok! AND HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY SENSUE!! SO SO SO sorry it's late you guys. I even put the requested themes in it just for you guys!

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"I'll be back soon Sammy ok? You just sit there and eat your soup."Dean said turning to Sam, his duffle over his shoulder, heading out the door of the motel room.

Sam's eye twitched in annoyance. "Forget that Dean. I'm fine, I can come." He said scratching at his arm. He stood up, and leaned against the wall for support. Dean knew Sam was trying to look alert, but he really only looked worn out.

"Sam. You know what the doctor said." Dean said warningly.

"The one with the cane, that was addicted to Vicodin, and with the bad attitude? He was a fake. He had to have been." Sam said passionately.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam, doesn't matter. You have the chicken pox, that's all there is to it. Now stay."

"Dean, you can't go out all alone! It's dangerous!" Sam said, grabbing onto Deans jacket. He was white as a sheet.

"Sam stop-" He grinned at his new word. "- whinging. I have to." He guided Sam back to his bed, but it was more like dragging him to it. Dean could tell Sam was having a hard time staying up. His frame was shuddering lightly, while Dean helped him under the bed covers. Dean patted Sams ankle, and departed.


	2. Chapter 2

Challenge words: Chest Steady Splinter and Dry

A/N: Hey, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY WOODBURNER AND PADavis!!!!!!!!! Belated GOod luck on your surgery Muffy!!! SO SO SO SO Sorry its so late!

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He knew he should have listened to Sam. The hunt WAS too dangerous to do alone. He should have waited for Sam to get over the friking chicken pox. But no, He was too stubborn, and now here he was, on the forest floor, a GIANT splinter like branch, sticking out of his chest. He didn't know how the hell he was going to get out of this one.

The Black dog he had been hunting was looming steadily above him, probably laughing at how easily it had gotten Dean into this ridiculous position. All it did was shove him down a hill. But it was too cocky. It waited too long to attack him.

Dean raised his gun shakily, and just as it jumped to attack, he shot it right between the eyes. It dropped on top of him, dead. Great. An even worse position.

He started laughing. He looked at the dead black dog on top of him, and started laughing even harder. He laughed so hard, tears started streaking down his previously dry cheeks. He knew he had to calm down and stop laughing, that it wasn't funny. But he COULDN'T stop.

He slowly moved his hand toward his pocket that was holding his cell phone. He grappled at it, but he was so weak he could barely hold it. He got a grip on it, and opened it and dialed 911.

Everything was slowly fading, black edges creeping into his vision.

"Hello 911, what is your emergency?" He started when he heard the voice. Then he remembered.

"I…Need…Help." He said into the phone, laughing, his breathing coming in raggedly.

"Where is your location sir?" the woman on the phone asked. But Dean couldn't answer, he was passing out soon, he could tell. VERY soon.

"Woods… off…Jeffer-" but he passed out before he could finish what he was saying.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: And it's done. I liked this story. Only took me 3 hours to write, and it was fun. Hope you guys liked it as much as I did writing it!! Oh and if i didn't take that super long break last year, and not had all those backed up E/O Challenge words, this story here, would not be in existence. Just saying. I am in love with Reviews!

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Luckily, The 911 people trace calls in case something EXACTLY like this happens. The woman could see that the man on the phone was trying to say Jefferson, so that's exactly where she sent the ambulance. He wasn't too far off the road. He was only about 3 or 4 yards off the side of the road. Easy to find him.

When the paramedics found the man, he was under a giant dog, and impaled with a tree branch, unconscious. Quickly, but carefully they lifted the dog off of him, and cut the branch from the tree that it was connected to. They lifted the man, and the branch, to the stretcher, and whisked him off to the hospital. As soon as they got to the hospital he was immediately brought to the OR. The man's wallet was checked, and his Emergency contact was called. According to his drivers license, The man's name was Steven Hetfield.

It was a while before Stevens Emergency contact got to the hospital. When he did, he brought a man in about his sixties in with him.

"Hows my brother?!" The younger man demanded as soon as he walked into the Hospital.

"Who is your brother, Honey?" The nurse at the information desk asked him.

"De- Steven Hetfield." He answered. The nurse looked him up, and said, "Yes, your brother is in surgery right now. He should be out in a couple hours."

The older man started cursing "Steven" and the younger man just looked like he was about to collapse. For the next couple hours, the two men paced the floor of the waiting room, talking to "Stevens" doctor, and asking always when they could see him.

"Steven" was in critical condition, and he needed his rest, but as soon as he woke up, the two men could not be stopped from going into his room.

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"Dean! Are you ok?" Sam asked as he burst into the room.

"You stupid idjit!" Bobby said, right behind Sam. "You almost got yourself killed." With that he enveloped Dean into a careful hug.

"Sorry. I didn't see the branch till it was sticking outta my ribcage." Dean said apologetically, but with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Hey Sammy." Dean said to his little brother across the room. He was keeping his distance from Dean. "I shoulda listened to you. Friking black dog. So how am I?"

"The doctor said that you were going to be fine, but you have to take it easy for a while. And you aren't getting out of here for another week." Sam answered.

"Aww, I wanna leave now!" He said starting to sit up, but Bobby laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, and pushed him back down.

"You had a punctured lung, a concussion, several broken ribs, and severe blood loss. You're stayin' here." Bobby said demandingly. Dean looked at Bobby, and confusion came to his eyes.

"What are you doing here anyway, Bobby? We're like, three or four states away from you."

"I still have the chicken pox, so I asked Bobby for a ride. I didn't want to get in an accident with your baby. You would have killed me if I had." Sam answered still on the other side of the room.

"So that's why you're avoiding me." Dean muttered. "And damn straight I would have killed you." He grinned at Sam. With Sam and Bobby with him, he knew he was going to be fine. Then he rolled his eyes at that chick flick moment of the mind.


End file.
